


Home Is Where the Heart Is

by dragonwings948



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode: s09e12 Hell Bent, Hurt No Comfort, Memories, Sad, Sad Ending, seriously this is super depressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 01:50:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10709628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwings948/pseuds/dragonwings948
Summary: Before meeting the Doctor in the diner, Clara makes one last visit to the TARDIS. Set during Hell Bent and totally canon compliant.





	Home Is Where the Heart Is

**Author's Note:**

> I had "Home" from the Beauty and the Beast Broadway soundtrack stuck in my head while I was writing this, so that's where the title came from.

            The door opened with a creak that meant she was home.

            Clara Oswald took one slow step into the TARDIS. Even the echoing of her footstep sounded like the sweetest of music, and she committed it to memory. She stepped further into the dim console room and scanned the entire area, trying to memorize every detail.

            She touched the metal handrail and the coolness sent an awakening shock through her system. Lights swirled around the room’s ceiling, creating an almost mesmerizing effect. The humming of the engines, always in the background, maintained a calm undercurrent in the chaos of the time and space machine.

_Home._

            Clara squeezed the handrail. “Keep it together,” she reminded herself.

            The rotor in the center of the console brightened, though the rest of the lights remained subdued. The TARDIS emitted a high-pitched beeping sound, as if it were asking a question.

            Clara stepped into the soft orange glow toward the middle of the room. “Don’t worry, he’s fine. By the time he gets to you he won’t even be dazed. He’ll just keep going like he always does.”

            Another concerned note came from the console. Clara placed her hands on the edge of the console, and suddenly she saw herself there only weeks earlier.

            _Don’t worry, daft old man. I’m not going anywhere._

Clara flinched at the memory and pulled away from the console. She took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest. She had to be strong, she had to be brave.

            “He’s fine, and that’s all that matters,” she said more for her benefit than the TARDIS’. She took a deep breath and swallowed past the lump forming in her throat, mentally reinforcing the wall that held back her memories. She had work to do.

            Clara reached out a hand toward the console, hesitating for a moment before touching the icy metal. No memories crept past her carefully constructed barrier this time, and Clara smiled to herself. She ran her fingertips over the controls in front of her and concentrated back on the task at hand.

            “I know you’ve never really liked me, but I need you to do something for me. For the Doctor.” She waited for a response, but the TARDIS was quiet. “I need you to erase everything you’ve got on Clara Oswald.”

            The TARDIS made an alarmed noise. A picture of Clara flashed up on the closest monitor, and next to her image was listed basic information such as her birthday, parents, residence, and occupation.

            Clara slid over to get a better view of the screen. The photo of her was an old one, taken before she had even gone to Trenzalore with the Doctor. She remembered how honored she had felt, having her picture taken for the TARDIS’ records. It had made her feel important, significant somehow…

            Clara slammed down her mental gate and stopped the memory in its tracks. Now was not the time for reminiscing.

            “The Doctor can’t ever remember me, for his own good. So I want you to make it like I…” The final words died on her lips. She set her jaw and closed her eyes. Finally she let out a long sigh, relaxing her body and opening her eyes so she could stare into the time rotor. “I want you to make it like I never existed.”

            The TARDIS let out a wild fury of angry noises. Lights near the ceiling of the console room flashed red.

            “No!” Clara gripped the edge of the console. “No, for this once you will do _exactly_ as I say, because we both want the same thing: for the Doctor to be happy. If he remembers me, he’ll do something he’ll regret forever.”

            The TARDIS was silent for several long seconds. Finally, without even a sound, Clara’s picture on the monitor disappeared. Clara bowed her head and let out a long sigh. An ache somewhere deep inside of her throbbed, as if someone had just stabbed her right in the middle.

            “Thank you,” she breathed.

            Clara focused her mind on her next task, ignoring the weight of what she had just done. She walked across the console room and into the corridor, stopping at the first door on the right. It swooshed open to reveal a spacious, tidy room decorated in soft hues. Memories once again tried to break through to the front of her mind, but she shoved them back.

            She went to her closet and pulled out a large backpack she had taken on a few adventures. She hadn’t used it too often, but it would serve its purpose now.

            Clara unzipped the pack and knelt in front of her desk. She emptied out one drawer at a time, carefully removing the contents and setting them in the biggest section of the backpack. She tried not to look at the photos or documents she handled, but at one glance her mind filled in what they were and where they were from. Photos of her and the Doctor from various parties or celebrations, sonnets written for her by Shakespeare, letters from Jane Austen…

            Clara felt as if she was slowly beginning to unravel altogether. She emptied the three drawers as quickly as possible, still fighting in a desperate attempt to keep back her memories.

            Finally finished, she hoisted the backpack onto her shoulders and walked toward the door. As she reached her bed, she paused. A stuffed frog wearing a cowboy hat stared at her with a grin. She bent over to pick up the small toy and smiled.

            “Come on. We’re going on a new adventure.” She hugged the frog to her side and turned to look at the room one last time. Finally she sighed, spun around, and walked out the door. A quiet whoosh sounded, and Clara couldn’t help but glance back over her shoulder.

            The door had vanished.

            Clara’s eyes stung and her chest tightened. She took deep breaths, now squeezing the frog in her arms, and took a step toward the console room. There were so many other rooms she could visit: the kitchen, the library, the swimming pool; but her resolve was already dissolving, and the threat of her memories would surely only become more potent the longer she stayed here.

            Clara set her jaw and marched back to the console room. She went straight to the console and prepared the TARDIS for flight, punching in the coordinates she had so carefully memorized. Finally she pulled the final lever, and the TARDIS came to life. The lights flashed to their full brightness, casting a brilliant glow over the room. The time and space machine trumpeted its dematerialization sound, and Clara closed her eyes as she listened. A few tears slipped underneath her eyelids and tracked down her cheeks, and Clara swiped her sleeve over her face to catch them.

            The TARDIS landed with a final thump and another round of its signature wheezing, grinding noise. Clara sniffed. She caressed the closest control and looked up at the ancient Gallifreyan symbols surrounding the rotor. “Thank you,” she whispered. She cleared her throat and continued. “And not just for this, but for everything. I know you didn’t like me, but you tolerated me anyway, most of the time. And you took me to the most amazing places.” She patted the console’s edge. “I’m going to miss you.”

            Before she could think about the TARDIS further she turned her back on the console and looked around. She shouldn’t stay any longer. She had done what she had come to do.

            Her eyes focused on the Doctor’s electric guitar leaning on the wall next to the blackboard…the _empty_ blackboard…

            Mentally chiding herself all the way, Clara ran up the stairs to the second level of the room and went straight to the blackboard. She picked up a piece of chalk and rolled it in between her finger and thumb. Now was her chance. She had to choose her last message to the Doctor.

            Clara let out a sarcastic chuckle as an idea formed itself in her mind. What else could it have ever been?

            “Run you clever boy…”

            He would never remember her. That was the way it had to be. But it didn’t matter, not really. All that mattered was that he remembered who he was, because the universe needed its Doctor, even if he continued on without her.

            “…and be a Doctor.”

            Pleased with her work, Clara set down the chalk and walked down the staircase. The memories were already leaking through her wall, and as she rounded the console one last time, they broke free. Laughter, tears, hugs, countless adventures…

            Tears flowed down Clara’s cheeks, and a sob pushed its way through her lips. She willed her feet to the door and placed her palm on the smooth wood, ready to push it open.

            Clara Oswald took one more moment to accept the fact that she would never see this place again. Though she might be physically leaving the Doctor’s TARDIS forever, she knew deep down that her heart would always be here.

            “Goodbye,” she whispered as she pushed open the door. The TARDIS beeped a forlorn farewell and Clara stepped outside, shutting the door gently. She turned to indulge her longing for a final look at the blue police box: her safe haven, her beacon of light, her hope…her home.

            Clara touched her fingertips to the door for only a moment, and then drew away. A whisper forced itself past the sobs and the tears. “You’ll always be my home.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone was wondering, the stuffed frog is a really obscure reference to one of the comics with Eleven and Clara. I love to use it though, because I love the idea that Clara has this stuffed frog, and the story behind it is sad and adorable.


End file.
